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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423065">bad dreams</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/writelights/pseuds/writelights'>writelights</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harlots (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Kinda, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Nightmares, Pre-Canon, Short &amp; Sweet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:34:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>905</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/writelights/pseuds/writelights</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nancy has a nightmare and visits little Charlotte.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nancy Birch/Margaret Wells</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>bad dreams</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i am fascinated by the idea of nancy acting as a parent to margaret's children. i just really like it when nancy interacts with children in the show, and i'm sure she was great with charlotte and lucy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Nancy’s breath catches and her eyes flash open, but she’s practiced enough in the art of nightmares that she’s able to hold herself still. She takes in her surroundings slowly, noting the feel of the bed underneath her, the chipped pale blue of the walls, and the weight of Margaret’s arm slung sloppily over her waist. It’s been four years since they left Quigley’s, but still the nightmares haven’t stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She carefully places her hand on Margaret’s, which is resting softly on her stomach. She traces patterns on her knuckles, runs her fingers over the ring she was given by a young man she was particularly fond of. In truth, Nancy hates the ring, but the sapphire stone does suit Margaret nicely. She’s trying to think about anything but the nightmares, though she knows it’s a hopeless cause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nightmares occur at least once or twice a week, perhaps thrice if she’s been struggling. She dreams she’s lying in bed by herself, listening to Margaret scream and cry in the next room over. The walls are a soft pink with gold details, and she feels like she’s suffocating, like the pink is going to consume her, like the golden patterns are going to crawl up her body and into her veins until she is one with the wall. And oh, Margaret is screaming, begging for him to stop, and Nancy wants to kill him, wants to make him suffer. She wants him dead and gone, and she wants to take Margaret away from here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She clasps Margaret’s hand a little tighter before removing it from her waist, setting in gently down on the bed. She stands up, her ratty once-white shift falling just below her knees, and makes her way to Charlotte’s room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The little girl had begged for her own bedroom for her fifth birthday, and, unable to deny her anything, the women of the house had given in to her pleas. It’s little more than coat closet, and the twin bed takes up the majority of the space, but Charlotte never seems to mind. She often sits on the bed and plays with whatever toy or trinket she found that week, oblivious to the sounds of the bawdy house operating around her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy opens the door and sits lightly on the edge of Charlotte’s bed, watching the girl sleep. She often does this when the nightmares come. Charlotte has a calming effect on her, regardless of her mischievous personality, and it’s always comforting for Nancy to watch her sleep, to ensure she’s safe and breathing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She isn’t sure how long she’s been sitting on Charlotte’s bed before the girl says something. “Nance?” she asks sleepily, reaching out a little hand to touch Nancy’s arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here,” she replies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charlotte begins to sit up, moving closer to Nancy and eventually curling up in her lap, her head resting on Nancy’s shoulder. “D’ya wanna sleep here tonight? I always wanna sleep with you an’ Ma when I have bad dreams.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy tenses at that. She and Margaret have tried their best to shield Charlotte from the realities of the world they live in, at least until she’s a little older. They don’t tell the girl about the nightmares, or the pain, or how they hold each other while they cry in fear of her future. But apparently some of their hurt has slipped through the cracks, and so Nancy asks, “How do you know I had a bad dream?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Nancy sighs, and then adds, “I guess I’ll stay here tonight, if that’s okay with you, Miss Charlotte?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She giggles and wraps her arms around Nancy’s neck, squeezing just enough for it to be slightly uncomfortable. “‘Course it’s okay! It’s like a sleepover!” She releases Nancy and climbs back up her bed, pulling back the covers and leaving enough room for Nancy to tuck herself in next to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy does exactly that, and then pulls the girl to her chest and holds her tight. She couldn’t imagine a world without a Charlotte, as a world without Charlotte would have to be a world devoid of everything light and happy. It’s no secret that Nancy loves her as if she were her own, and Margaret often jokes that maybe she should call her ma instead. Quietly, she sometimes wishes that were the case. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They lay like that for a long time, and Nancy has begun to think that Charlotte’s fallen back to sleep when the girl speaks up again. “Hey, Nancy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It startles Nancy ever so slightly, and she pulls Charlotte even closer to herself before replying, “What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you have bad dreams, what d’ya dream about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s an innocent question, one that Nancy probably should have been expecting her to ask eventually, but it frightens her all the same. She doesn’t want to tell Charlotte about the content of the dreams, obviously, and she doesn’t really know how to explain them in a way that is age appropriate. She thinks about Margaret screaming, the walls, the rage, and she runs her hand through Charlotte’s hair and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I dream about people hurting your mother,” she says eventually, and pretends she doesn’t notice her voice quivering as it leaves her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charlotte takes a second to consider this, and then nods as if she understands. "Mine are usually about spiders," she says, and Nancy smiles.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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